Ever After Found

Another night, another bowl of popcorn. Wrapped up in my fluffy brown blanket with my mind turned toward the tv I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the nighttime drama. It was the fifth night in a row that I was too exhausted and unmotivated to get any real work done today. It was spring break and in the world of education that means RELAX and I was definitely taking advantage of it. Even though it is spring break I can’t shake this feeling that my relaxation is more than me just taking a break but I don’t understand why I feel that way.

My phone read 1:11 AM and I have officially entered into early morning television where reruns of 90’s dramas are playing and it is time to call it a night. I switch off the tv and tiptoe into my bedroom. I quietly slip into bed, next to — no one. Why did I sneak into bed? I pondered my thoughts but eventually drifted to sleep because watching tv all day is very exhausting.

I woke up to the smell of pancakes and maple syrup coming from the kitchen and I knew exactly what that meant. I hopped out of bed and couldn’t wait to sit down to a heaping plate of pancakes. I turned to head into the kitchen and found the counters were empty, the stove was cleared and there were no pancakes. Why did I think I smelled pancakes? Who would have even made pancakes? I live alone.

Slightly confused I turned back to my room and poured a bubble bath for myself and sank into the warmness of the tub and ordered a food delivery of pancakes, fruit medley, and extra maple syrup. Once I was content with the soft fragrance left on my skin I moved to the couch with my blanket and waited for my breakfast to be delivered.

“Hello, day number 6.”

In the middle of my second drama, my cellphone screen lit up with the words “Mother <3” boldly across the screen. I hesitated to answer for some reason but went ahead and picked it up.

“Hello, mom.”

“Sweetie!” she screamed so loudly I had to pull the phone away from my face to adjust to her voice.

“Hi, mom.”

“I just came back into town from the loveliest soiree and I met a wonderful lady!” Oh boy, she’s going to try and set me up — again. The last woman my mother set me up with was— actually I can’t remember the last woman my mom hooked me up with, maybe I should give it a shot so I don’t end up on day 20 of this routine I’ve started.

“What’s her name? What does she do? I’m invested mom.”

“Oh, yes! I’m so glad you are! Her name is Taryn, she’s a Veterinary assistant and she’s studying to become a veterinarian herself. I met her mother at the soiree but she showed me pictures of her and it sounds like you two would really get along.” Well, at least both of our mothers set it up so we have that in common that our moms are meddlers.

My mom then proceeded to give me her Instagram profile and cell phone number and I guess I have to do the rest. After talking to my mom for another 30 minutes, we finally hung up on each other and I casually started browsing this woman’s page. It’s amazing what you can guess about someone’s personality based on their social media profile. She clearly really loves animals, there are pictures of her with horses, cows, cats, lizards, and of course tons of dogs. There is one picture of her with a midnight black Labrador. The caption says she rescued the puppy from a fire and they help restored his lungs within a week of treatment. In the comments under the post, everyone considered it a miracle. I went straight to my text messages and drafted a simple yet thoughtfully crafted message.

I went to my messages and then I began with a simple greeting.

“Hi, my name is Rowen. Apparently, our moms think we should meet and I’d love to get to know you better for myself. How’s dinner sometime this week?” – I take a look at my sweet yet simple post and just as I go to hit send I stop and feel guilt. Why do I feel guilty? I exit out of the message and turn my tv drama back on and start back up on my regular Day 6 programming.

What am I doing? I need to message her, I’m acting as if I’m incapable of love and I’m not! I pick up the phone and head to the message I crafted earlier and I just pause and stare at the message.

I tapped the small blue arrow that immediately made the familiar swish sound that to my horror, confirmed the message had in fact sent.

Oh, boy. I watch my screen intently as the gray bubbles signal that someone was typing — no that she was typing. I gulped my anxiety down and exited the message before it says I read it immediately.

Woo. This feels like a rush

As I intently stared at the phone the message began to blur and fog up and that’s when I realized I hadn’t blinked and I was crying. For the first time in a long time, I suppose I felt alone. So alone. I curled beneath my fuzzy brown blanket and sobbed, and sobbed until the moment when the sobs were just dry heaves of me gasping for air – I was hyperventilating? Eventually, everything went dark.

It’s almost pitch black in the room but the faint blue chromatic light of the flat screen is reflecting around the room. I can’t make out which drama is on the tv but I’m sure it’s one I’ve already seen before. I’m underneath my fuzzy brown blanket but something is different. I sense there are eyes watching me intently, gazing at every curve of my body snd my essence even under the blanket. It doesn’t feel unfamiliar though, quite the opposite. It feels warm. This presence feels welcoming and I fall into it. It smells like maple syrup and my favorite scent of wood wick candle, black plum cognac, I don’t want to move, for fear that I’ll lose this moment. That’s when I hear it, “I love you, Rowen.” The faintest whisper, yet I heard it.